Jesus also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:
"Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.
The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.
I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.'
But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!'
I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”
I’m leading the standings in my fantasy football league. 5-1. My buddy Adam and I are running #1 and #2 in this league and smell blood in the water. I don’t think I’ve ever put this much effort into trying to win $200.
No one wants to trade with me because I’m winning, but the bottom half of the league doesn’t seem very interested in changing their losing strategies either. That’s on them. I’m strapped for running backs, but I have Josh Allen as QB1. Every week, all of my hopes for victory rest on the thin line of the waiver wire.
Even while winning, I compare myself to the 9 other guys in my league. Who is the most efficient manager each week? Who can score the most points? Who can win off of the waiver wire? None of us want to come across as uninformed, or worse, incompetent week-to-week.
(I like to think watching Moneyball a dozen times uniquely prepared me for my current reign.)
And yet, no decision I make has any real impact on the players or teams I’m “managing.” It is all fake. I am not a real NFL GM. No man in the arena will be affected by my decisions. At best, I am playing a fun strategy game. At worst, I am becoming a harsh critic of the actions of my friends in this game and the performance of the players on the field. The ones who have dedicated their entire being to a sport, a performance, a way of life.
It is not the critic who counts; nor the one who points out how the strong person stumbled, or where the doer of a deed could have done better.
The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who does actually strive to do deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends oneself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he or she fails, at least fails while daring greatly.
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those timid spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat. - Teddy Roosevelt
I love our Gospel passage today, because if you haven’t been this self-righteous Pharisee like I have, then you certainly know someone who is this person. And they are the worst. Have they done anything with their wild and wonderful life? Have they lived their entire life in Teddy’s grey twilight?
When I see someone going in a direction I don’t agree with, or that I think is flat out wrong, I’m learning that I can choose to be gracious and believe they are doing the best that they can. At least they have the fortitude to be in the arena — striving, failing, making the attempt. The judgment is up to God — and Jesus, who has the shoulders to carry the burden of saving the world, and the Spirit of God who is always in and among us working in ways we can’t fully put into words. And for us harsh critics on the sidelines — well, maybe it would be better for us to stop talking so much, and climb into the arena of life.